


Built out of stone

by Captainmintyfresh



Series: The buttplug incident [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, POV Nathan Miller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 18:51:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11042175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captainmintyfresh/pseuds/Captainmintyfresh
Summary: Murphy comes to live with the Millers





	Built out of stone

**Author's Note:**

> So i just felt the need to write about Murphy coming to live with the Miller's because i totally skipped over it in the powerhouse of a cell.
> 
> Set during tphoc

Miller peered around the classroom nervously. The seat next to him vacant leaving a bubble of unease in his chest. He lent forwards, tapping Jaspers shoulder.

“You seen Murphy this morning?” Miller breathed, trying to keep the eyes of the teacher off of them. Jasper held no such discretion, spinning in his chair to face Miller drawing the teachers attention in an instant.

“No.” Jasper murmured back, only one side of his mouth moving as he tried, and failed, to be discreet. “Probably late. Mum drops me off late sometimes.”

“Yeah.” Miller said, flopping back into his chair. His eyes found the clock on the wall. It was only half an hour into the first lesson, there was no need to worry.

*

“Have any of you seen Murphy?” Miller asked, hovering at the edge of the lunch table. Four pairs of eyes turned to him.

“No.” Came the unanimous reply. Miller couldn't help but frown, eyes moving over to the window as if he'd spot Murphy rushing along, ready to grab his lunch from Miller and burst into a story about buses running late. He licked his lips, looking back to the table.

“You sure?”

“Positive.” Octavia said.

“I'm in a good mood for once so I'm guessing he's no where near here.” Bellamy mumbled. Miller swallowed the lump in his throat, gaze shifting back to the window.

“He's probably sick.” Monty suggested. “I'm sure he'll be back tomorrow.”

“yeah. Thanks.” Miller grunted. He walked out of the lunch room without looking back. Murphy was never sick, or at least, never sick enough to not come to school. He'd come in bundled up in all the clothes he wore, frown firmly on his face as he sniffled and insisted he was absolutely fine. But maybe, maybe he really was sick, too sick to come in today.

*

“Excuse me.” Miller said, peering over the desk. The woman's fingers stopped on the keyboard, eyes flickering up to meet his, frown firmly in place as if she was wondering why a student was in student services. “Can you look and see if John Murphy came in today? Or if he called to say he was sick.”

“I don't-”

“Please.” Miller begged. The woman frowned, eyeing him for a few moments before she let out a sigh and returned her gaze to the computer, long false finger nails tapping at the keys. Miller waited, fingers drumming against the desk.

“He's not been in. Haven't had a phone call to explain the absence either.” She said. “Sorry kiddo.”

“Thanks.”

*

He wanted to believe he was over reacting, that the unease that sat in his stomach all day, churning away leaving him tasting bile at the back of his throat was just unneeded anxiety, but each time he would get himself believing that his eyes would slide to his side, where Murphy _should_ be and he'd find it empty. His mind would flash to the bruises he'd seen when they'd changed for gym. He'd think of the smell of alcohol and stale smoke Murphy's clothes always seemed to hold and of the lunches he never packed. The times when Murphy would crawl through his window after dinner, one cheek red and eyes despondant as he'd flop down next to Miller never saying anything about how he got the mark, or why he was there.

Miller had asked, once, had suggested Murphy talk to his dad if something were wrong but Murphy had shot it down quickly with a harsh snap to mind his own business before he was disappearing back out the window.

He could remember his fathers worried looks when Murphy would turn up alone for sleepovers. His frown as he walked into the office after Murphy had gotten into a fight and the constant 'Hows John doing' questions that were just a tad too pointed to be mere curiosity. Miller curled his arms around his stomach when he realised that his father knew nothing about most of Murphy's visits, that he'd never spotted a bruise on the boy and still asked about him in concern.

The bell for the end of school rang and Miller wanted to be sick, Murphy, for all the talk of hating school, never missed it. He would occasionally bunk classes, but never school itself. He'd always be there, somewhere in the building,

There had to be something wrong.

“You're really worried aren't you?” Miller's head snapped up at the voice. His eyes locking on Bellamy's, he and his group stood around Miller's table watching him. The class had emptied, although Miller hadn't even realised enough time had passed for that.

His mind flashed to a particularly bad bruise Murphy had two weeks prior, covering most of his rib cage leaving him wincing but never complaining. That alone should have been enough to get Miller to do something, Murphy always complained.

“I need to talk to my dad.” Miller chocked. He stood up too fast, the chair scrapping across the floor so loudly it made the four in front of him jump. He grabbed his bag, swinging it over his shoulder and rushing from the class room. He could hear the patter of feet behind him telling him the others were following curiously.

The five of them broke out of the school building together. Miller's head jolting from side to side as he tried to spot the police car.

“There!” Jasper exclaimed happily, like they were playing a game of where's wally. Pointing to David, hovering by his car. Miller sprinted over.

_You're overreacting, everything's fine_ Miller thought as he skidded to a stop in front of David, the smile on the mans face fell away as he saw the look on Miller's. _Murphy might hate you if you say something._

“Hey kid, Nate, what's wrong?” David asked, grasping Miller's shoulder gently. Miller blinked up at him, mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

_But he might be in trouble._

“Murphy's not here.” Monty said.

“Aw he sick? I'm sure he'll be back before you know it.” David said calmly, Miller shook his head _you don't understand_ “You can give him a call later and-”

“He has bruises!” Miller shouted, far too loud for the parking lot. A few parents eyes swung towards the group. David's brow furrowed. His hand tightening for a moment on Miller's shoulder before he dropped into a crouch.

“Nate what do you mean?”

“I...He keeps turning up at night.” Miller admitted sheepishly. “he comes through the window and won't tell me why and sometimes in gym he has bruises. He won't talk about them either.” Miller swallowed at the serious look on his fathers face, the nerves increasing as he shifted beneath the hand on his shoulder. “He's _always_ here, even when he's sick, or Bellamy's annoyed him.” Bellamy scoffed from behind him. “Something's wrong.”

“Okay, alright I believe you.” David said, shooting an attempt at a smile towards his son. His eyes moved past Miller, to the group of kids behind him. “Can any of you see your parents?”

“We all get a lift from Monty's mom.” Jasper said.

“She's over there.” Monty added , pointing to a woman watching them with an easy smile.

“Alright, come on.” David said, leading Miller towards Monty's mother. The group still followed, like lost ducklings. “Hannah, can I talk to you for a moment?” David asked. Miller watched in silence as the two adults ducked off to the side, sharing hushed words. Their eyes continuously flickering back towards the kids, Hannah's smile fell. A few more second of hushed whispering and she was nodding quickly, the two adults returning to the car.

“Alright Nate, Hannah's going to give you a lift back to her house. I'll come pick you up in a bit, or your mum will.”

“Where are you going?”

“To go see John.”

“Can I come?”

“No, you go with Hannah, be good for her okay. Don't cause any trouble.” David said. “You did the right thing telling me, okay?” David jogged off back towards his car jumping in and speeding away.

“Come on, Nathan.” Hannah said gently. “You can ride shot gun.”

“But I always ride shot gun!” Jasper whined. Miller let Hannah nudge him towards the car, wincing as the sirens from his fathers cruiser popped on.

“Wait..Murphy's okay right?” Octavia asked as they all clambered into the car. Hannah gave a false smile.

“Come on buckle up.” She said.

“Mom is Murphy okay?” Monty asked, leaning between the seats.

“I'm sure he's fine. Probably has a cold. I hear there's one going round.” Miller had heard many unconvincing lies in his short life, mainly from Murphy, but Hannah's was truly terrible, he held back a grimace, eyes shifting to the window, watching as his fathers car roared round the corner and out of sight.

*

It seemed to be hours later when there was finally a knock at the door and Veronica arrived. A tense smile on her face as she asked for Nathan. Miller was at the door before she could finish the question.

“Is Murphy okay? What happened?”

“I'll explain on the way home okay?” Veronica said gently.

“Wait, he's okay right?” Bellamy asked, barging next to Miller in the doorway.

“..Yes.” Neither of the boys missed the hesitation, eyes flickering to one another.

“Mom what happened?” Miller asked.

“Come on lets-”

“Mom.” Miller begged, stepping away as her hand reached for him.

“He's fine Nathan.” She said soothingly.

“Then why-” Monty asked, shoving between Bellamy and Miller

“Physically he's fine.” She amended. “He..It's been a long day for him. I'm not sure how he's going to be. Your father said-”

“What happened?” Miller growled.

“Mrs Murphy passed away.”

“She's dead?!” Jasper gasped, head pushed through the gap between Bellamy and Monty's bodies.

“What about Murphy?” Octavia asked. Miller was happy that she at least had the sense to just stand on her tip toes to peer over them at Verna rather than trying to fit a forth person right in the doorway.

“He's okay. I..he'll be coming over to stay, at least for tonight. Get your shoes on.”

*

The drive back home had been a bleak one. Miller curled in on himself mind on Murphy. Murphy who'd now lost both of his parents. Murphy who'd seemingly spent the whole day in the house with a dead woman. Murphy who would be arriving at their house within the next few hours as a homeless orphan.

“Is he going to leave?” Miller asked quietly as they pulled into the drive way.

“Pardon?”

“Is he going to leave? That happens right? People, they get adopted, or put into foster care and they go away.”

“I'm not sure what will happen to him.” She said honestly. Miller knew she was trying to help him, that he never did well with half truths but for once he wished she'd lie. “Come on, lets go in. We'll set up the spare room.”

*

Miller waited on the stairs despite his mother telling him it was rude. His feet tapping at the bottom step as he eyed the door, listening for the sound of a key in the lock signalling that his dad was home with Murphy.

It seemed to take forever, the clock in the hall ticking away, his mother shuffling about from in the guest room. By the time the door finally opened Miller could taste blood from chewing his lip for too long. He stood up slowly as the door pushed open. Murphy stepped in first, being lead with a hand on the shoulder by David. David spotted him first, giving a tired smile.

He had expected Murphy to turn up with red eyes from crying and a quivering lip, for his face to be covered with bruises. Instead he looked..normal, a little vacant but normal. His cool eyes sweeping across the hall, settling on Miller before he gave a small nod. For a moment, Miller thought he was okay, that his Mom had gotten some bad information and nothing had in fact happened. Murphy was just coming for another sleepover. But then Murphy was turning and carefully toeing out of his shoes leaving Miller gaping.

It was such a small thing, but it was something Murphy never did. He would waltz into the house like he owned it, a smile that was more like a smirk towards Miller's parents before he was jogging upstairs with Miller to spread across his room.

He placed them on the shoe rack with a shaking hand that was quickly shoved into his pocket. Miller's eyes flickered between Murphy and David. Murphy still, watching the older man as if waiting to be told what to do, shifting from foot to foot. A toe poking out of the end of his holey sock. Miller stumbled down the last few steps, grabbing Murphy's shoulder making the boy jump. He yanked him in, wrapping his arms around him tightly.

For a moment he was sure he was about to get punched, the way Murphy's body was coiled and tense, waiting to lash out but then he relaxed, a harsh exhale brushing across Millers shoulder. Arms snaking around Miller's waist and clinging to Miller hard enough to squeeze the breath right out of him. Miller ignored the discomfort, hugging back with just as much strength. He pulled back when Murphy started too, clapping him on the shoulder, eyes running over his face. Murphy licked his lips, shoulders rolling beneath Miller's hand.

“You want to play play station?” Murphy asked gently. Tentatively.

“Yeah. Yeah sure.” Miller said with a swift nod. Murphy smiled gratefully and inched towards the stairs, looking to David who gave a small nod of approval before he was taking off after them.

“Go on, me and mom'll start dinner.” He said, patting Miller on the back. “Call me if either of you need anything.” Miller followed Murphy up the stairs and into his room. Murphy had already climbed onto Millers bed, a controller in his hands, thumb working the joy stick as he looked to Miller

“So your dad talked to my social worker, Apparently your folks have a fostering license so they said I can stay here till the funeral.”

“That's great?” Miller said slowly, inching towards the bed. “Are you okay? Wait, that's a dumb question, uh..are..do you want to-”

“Course I'm okay with it, your dads a great cook.” Murphy said. Miller wanted to point out that that wasn't what he meant but he knew Murphy knew that and so instead he gave a soft smile that seemed to make Murphy relax and joined the boy on the bed. A controller being tossed into his lap.

“Prepare to get your ass kicked.” Murphy mumbled.

*

The next few days were..strange. The Miller family eyed Murphy warily, waiting for the explosion while trying to seem like they weren't doing just that and Murphy, Murphy acted normally, perhaps a bit politer but still, just Murphy. He'd bitch about what game they were playing and kick Miller's shins when he started to win. Despite the bedroom made up for him he'd come to Millers room to sleep, curling up on the edge of the bed like a dog as if it were another sleepover.

David had given them both the week off school. Miller knew the only reason he was allowed to have the time off as well was because with or without his parents permission he would have stayed home with Murphy. Leaving them spending most of their time locked away in Miller's room, acting like nothing was wrong.

And then the funeral came, five days after Mrs Murphy had died. Miller was use to funerals from films. Where everything would be doused in the grey of storm clouds and rain would beat down on a sea of black umbrellas that seemed to be never ending. Mrs Murphy's funeral was nothing like that. Seven people were there, dotted around the sunny cemetery watching with frowns. No one cried, not as much as a sniffle past their lips. Miller kept a strong grip on Murphy's hand, sweating in the sun and Murphy stayed silent. Eyes blank as he watched the casket lower into the ground.

They were at the wake for all of five minutes before one of the few people there cracked open a bottle of harsh smelling alcohol and Murphy had lost all colour and proceeded to fly from the room like someone was chasing him.

He was gone by the time Miller and his parents had gotten outside. They'd spent what felt like hours searching the block before David was hurrying them back into the car. They drove past Murphy's house, stopping on the curb as David climbed out and called for Murphy, searching around the closed door for the boy. Then they were going back to Miller's. David ready to drop them off and send out a man hunt for the little run away.

Miller let out a sigh of relief when they arrived at his front door and Murphy was sat on the porch, head rested back against the banister, eyes closed.

“Murphy?!” Miller yelped, jumping out the car before David had finished parking, ignoring Veronica's panicked yelps and David scolding him.

“Took you long enough.” Murphy drawled, his voice dry and scratchy. His eyes opened, lips pulling in a frown as his gaze slid past Miller to David and Verna as they came to a stop behind him. “Sorry for taking off.” Murphy chewed his lip, eyes searching the three faces in front of him with an intensity that left Miller shifting in place He opened his mouth once before snapping it closed.

“John-” David began

“What happens to me now?” He blurted. “I mean, is there a social worker on their way? A distant relative I didn't know about? Where do I go?” A broken smile flickered onto Murphy's face. Miller found himself forced to look away, feeling sick, he wanted to give Murphy an answer but he had no idea what was happening. He'd asked him mom pretty much the same thing when he'd found out about Murphy's mother.

“You don't have to worry about that John.” David said. “For now you stay here. You don't have to go anywhere.” Miller could practically hear the unspoken yet the flicker of pain on Murphy's face told Miller Murphy had heard it too.

“Can we go inside?” Murphy asked quietly.

Verna nodded. Hopping up the porch and unlocking the front door. Murphy mumbled a thanks before he was going up the stairs. Miller following dutifully behind him. He expected Murphy to turn right and go down the hall to Miller's room but, for once, he didn't, spinning on his heel and marching to the guest room. The door closed behind him with a gentle click. Miller hovered at the top of the stairs, eyes on the door unsure of what he was meant to do.

Slowly he backed up, turning around and wandering back down the stairs with gentle footsteps.

“I know, but think of the money, the effect it would have on Nate.” Miller froze on the step, foot hanging in the air as he looked towards the ajar door of the kitchen, his mothers voice drifting through the gap.

“He's his best friend, I don't think he'd mind.” David said with a laugh. “Of course we'd ask him but-”

“I just..I'm worried he's a bad influence.”

“John's not a bad influence, he's just-”

“How many times have you had to leave work to go deal with a fight that boy got in at school? How many of those have ended in our son with a split lip or bruise trying to help his friend.”

“I'm not saying he's not a troubled kid, but with what he's been going through at home can you blame him? If he's here, if he knows he's safe maybe-”

“He ran away today-”

“From his mothers funeral. He was overwhelmed, anyone would be, let alone a boy his age. Verna he needs people who care about him. He needs a family.”

“Someone will want him.” Verna murmured.

“Will they?” David asked. “John isn't exactly a welcoming kid, especially not when he's scared. If he gets put into the foster system you know he'll just slip through the cracks. He's not a bad kid Verna, you know that. We already know his history, he trusts us as much as he's going to trust any adult right now.

“I'm not saying he is. I know you care about him, I do too. But this is a big decision.”

Miller turned at a sudden crash from upstairs feet already moving as he propelled himself back up them. He could hear his parents close behind him, rushing out of the kitchen to see what had happened.

“Murphy?” Miller called, sliding to a stop by the closed door. Pressing his ear to it.

“What happened?” David asked, moving to meet Miller at the door.

“I don't know.” Miller said. “Murphy are you-”

“I'm fine. It's fine.” Murphy called, his voice wet and shaky. Miller looked up to David nervously.

“John, I'm going to come in.” David said.

“No, don't I'm-” Murphy broke off, a muffled sob echoing through the wood.

“Let me.” Verna whispered. Miller jumped at a hand on his shoulder, finding himself being pulled gently away from the door as Verna took his place, the door creaked open as she pushed it softly. Her head poking round the door, Miller itched to shove past her into the room but David's hand on his shoulder kept him in place.

“John?” Verna murmured.

“It was an accident.” Murphy voice rang. “I didn't mean to I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't-”

“It's okay.” Verna left her post by the door, pushing it further open as she moved in. David, finally let go of Miller, letting him inch inside. He watched as his mother crouched in front of Murphy, crumpled in the corner of the room, glass splinters around him from an ornament that had sat on the chest of draws. “I was looking for the game boy and I just knocked it. I wasn't trying-”

“John it's okay.” Verna cooed, her hand moved up to brush Murphy's hair from his face only it didn't get there, Murphy flinched away violently, hand dropping to the glassy floor as he tried to get away. He let out a yelp of pain, pulling the hand back to his chest.

“I'm sorry. I'll clean it up I-”

“It's okay.” Verna repeated, clasping her hands together to stop herself from reaching out again.

“No, no it's not I didn't mean to-”

“I know.” Verna cooed, Murphy shook his head violently, tears streaking down his face, flicking off his cheeks as he shook his head.

“I killed them.” The admission was broken, voice barely a breath. Miller watched as his mothers eyes flickered back towards them looking lost as he felt. David's hand came on his shoulder again, ready to lead him out of the room. Miller shook him off. “She said..she said I killed him and that means I killed her too, right?” Murphy asked. “She wouldn't have started drinking if I hadn't phoned him..if I hadn't..I shouldn't have called him I just-I didn't mean to. I just wanted to go home, I didn't think he'd- It's my fault.” Verna's hands came away from her lap, one hand touching Murphy's arm.

“John, no, you didn't-” Verna begun

Murphy launched himself towards Verna, knees scuffing at the glassy floor no doubt leaving bits embedded in his legs, not that he seemed to notice. His head burying into her neck as she scooped him into her arms, hand brushing through his hair. Eyes wide flickering between David and the boy in her arms.

“I didn't know. I didn't-”

“Shh, it's not your fault.” She whispered. “I promise you, this wasn't your fault. I've got you.”

It was a strange picture, one that Miller knew would probably be stuck in his head for the rest of his life. His mother in a pretty dress curled on the floor next to a shattered ornament hugging a sobbing John Murphy as he smeared blood across her back, red drops falling onto the floor as he clung to her.

“Come on.” David said gently. Miller finally let himself be lead out of the room. Miller hovered around his Dad as David begun cooking dinner, both their eyes finding the door every few moments hoping for the two to appear.

“Should I-” Miller tried

“Your Mom's got it. We don't want to overwhelm him.” David said gently.

It felt like an eternity later that the steps sounded on the stairs, soft feet padding towards the kitchen. Miller stood up, then sat back down, then stood again, David pushed him back into the seat with a soft smile just before Verna appeared, Murphy following after her, hand clutching the trail of her dress like a toddler trying to get their mothers attention.

“First aid kit?” David asked. Verna nodded, she patted the counter, Murphy hopped up without a word, eyes on the floor, hand still slowly dripping blood. David passed Verna the first aid kit. But she pushed it back at him. Nodding to Miller. Miller blinked between his parents as they waggled their eyebrows at each other in silent conversation. David grinned, giving a short nod.

“Nathan, can I talk to you for a second?” Verna asked. Miller followed her back out of the room with no arguments. He perched on the edge of the couch, watching Miller.

“How would you feel about-”

“I want him to come live with us.” Miller said, cutting of his mother. She let out a dry chuckle.

“You do?” Miller nodded instantly at the question. “Are you sure?” Miller nodded again. “It would be permanent, no take backs, if you two got into a fight it wouldn't matter, he'd still stay here. He'd be family-”

“He already is.” Miller said, watching as his mother faltered before smiling, soft and proud.

More was said, Verna double checking that Miller would be okay with it. A quick promise for him to not say anything until later, at least until Murphy's no longer in his funeral suit and dotted with blood.

When Miller and Verna re-entered the room David was busy picking pieces of glass out of Murphy's legs, the slacks rolled up to above Murphy's knees, small streaks of blood dripping down in slow streams.

“We good?” David asked, looking back at the two. Verna nodded. Miller grinned, sticking up a thumb.

“Sorry about your glass horse thing.” Murphy said, shifting with a hiss as David pulled out another small shard. His hand scrubbing across his nose, whether to rub away any lingering snot from crying or just as a nervous tick Miller couldn't tell.

“It's fine John.” David said with a smile. “If you hadn't broken it I would have, it was awful. We should be thanking you for getting rid of it. Now hold still, I need to-”

“THEY WANT TO ADOPT YOU!” Miller screamed, slapping a hand over his mouth the second the words were out. “Sorry, I tried.” Miller admitted, looking sheepishly up to his Mom.

“Miller.” Murphy hissed.

“I'm surprised he lasted as long as he did.” David said with a sigh. “Alright, well, I guess a nice dinner as we talk about this is out of the question.”

“We don't-” Murphy started.

“How would you feel about coming to live here permanently?” Verna asked

“We'd be brothers dude.” Miller said eagerly, bouncing on his heels as he watched his friend. Murphy's head snapped up. Eyes flicking through the three Millers frantically, lips parted and eyes wide.

“Wait is he serious?” Murphy breathed.

“It would be a bad joke, even for him.” David said. Placing the tweezers down next to Murphy in the silent room.

“I...You..Mrs Miller? Are they for real?”

“They're for real.” she said with a solemn nod, lips twitching in a barely hidden smile.

“Would I have to change my name?”

“Not if you didn't want to, but if you did you'd be welcome.” David said. Miller watched as Murphy's eyes flickered over the three of them again, searching for the trace of a joke. “so, what do you say?”

“I..Yeah. Not to the name changing, but..I'd..if I could stay with you that would be..you know..cool.”

“Cool.” David hummed. “You sure? You can say no if you want to.”

“Do you want me to say no?”

“No! Of course not, but, I don't want you to feel pressured, if you think you'd be happier somewhere else then-”

“I want to stay.” Murphy said quickly.

“I'll talk to the social workers tomorrow.”

“What do I have to do?”

“Nothing yet.” David said. Plucking the tweezers back up. “Although, if you could keep out of trouble, no fights, no injuries, no running away, at least until it's finalised, that would be helpful.”

“But I can run away after it's finalised?”

“I guess, Always said I'd let my kids make their own decisions, but I'd prefer it if you didn't. Lots of paperwork to go through without getting a kid.” Murphy grinned sheepishly down at the floor. The family falling silent, Miller watching as David patched up Murphy's legs and his hand, a small pile of bloody glass being swept into the bin before dinner was being served, a little bit charred from it's time forgotten on the stove but still vaguely edible.

“We can go shopping tomorrow if you want? Buy you everything you need.” Verna said as they picked through their food.

“I have everything I need.” Murphy said, a confused tilt to his head.

“Half your clothes are ripped.” Verna pointed out.

“They still work.” Murphy snorted.

“Then we can get you some stuff you want.” David said. “Nate said you like that sponge show, you want a sponge poster?”

“It's spongebob dad.” Miller said with a sigh. Murphy grinned over at Miller. Bandaged hand twitching round his cutlery as he looked between the Millers

“Right. We can get you a spongebob poster, or bedsheets, some paint for your room, a few games for your gamebox.”

“Gameboy.” Miller said. “And I'm pretty sure that's mine.”

“Sharing is caring brother dearest.” Murphy said with a wink. David boomed out a laugh.

*

They got Murphy's room painted two days later, the four of them ending up covered in thick paint. The next day Miller sat on Murphy's once again freshly made bed, despite him having yet to sleep in it. However this time the covers were printed with dinosaurs, something Murphy only chose after Miller had tried to get him hello kitty sheets instead. He watched as Murphy teetered on a chair sticking an x-men poster to the wall. The purple gameboy sat on the chest of draws, in the place of the broken ornament, Miller knew without a doubt he would never ask for it back. despite Millers parent's offering everything short of the world Murphy had simply kept insisting he didn't need anything, minus a few new tops and a frankly ridiculous amount of junk food, the room was fairly bare. Where Miller had a comfy bean bag and a desk Murphy had free space but it made sense, Miller's room was where they hung out, where they both slept until the adoption papers finally came through and Murphy had walked tentatively into his barley used room, decorated to his liking, however sparse that may be. Miller had hovered in the doorway, watching as Murphy inched around it. Murphy turned to Miller after a moment and Miller stepped in with a grin.

“Dude, knock before you come into _my_ room.” Murphy scolded.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :) hope you liked it, please leave comments/kudos.  
> I totally will do a college story soon i'm just trying to figure out the timeline


End file.
